


trial and error

by windingwoods



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, minor talk of death and injuries, set in the stolen century
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 19:12:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12019212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windingwoods/pseuds/windingwoods
Summary: Lucretia turns to carpentry, Magnus is glad to help.





	trial and error

**Author's Note:**

> i love the stolen century and i love the children of this fate-defying family and also i'm very upset

The world they’ve landed on this time is one big patch of green. There seem to be only trees and thick bushes as far as they can tell from the deck of the Starblaster and no sign of animal life, for which Lucretia thanks whatever god might still be willing to listen to her (maybe Pan, Merle’s stories always make him sound so kind) when the Light falls so far from them they don’t even see it. She figures she might as well try to make some good out of the situation and practice while they wait for the Hunger to reach them.

“You picked a nice stick,” Magnus says like it’s supposed to be a big compliment, weighing the wood in his hand, then handing it back to Lucretia. “No termites, no humidity. That’s one sturdy boy.”

“That’s…” She trails off, searches for the right words. “Nice to know?”

The stilted stumbling of her words makes Magnus laugh like it’s booming from the pit of his stomach and Lucretia can’t help the smile that splits her lips as well; she doesn’t like what they’re trying to do, she doesn’t like Lup and Barry’s plan, but hers is a family that makes it hard not to get swept away.

Making her staff out of wood isn’t exactly a final decision, more like an idea she can’t quite shake, but she figures that scraping some bark from a _sturdy boy_ might be easier than going blacksmith and forging the whole thing from scratch. Yeah, she’s definitely not feeling _that._

So she starts guiding the blade of Magnus’ knife that he’s graciously lending her (“it’s a family heirloom, that one!”) along the length of the stick in careful motions, peeling off the gnarly surface as best as she can without accidentally cutting her fingers off. They’ll be back once the cycle resets but it’d still hurt quite a bit, which Lucretia isn’t all that enthused about.

She figures she can leave the self destructive behaviour to Magnus and Lup, though she’s done her fair share of temporary death as well.

(She’s had scars etched in her skin and then washed away as her body reversed to one year prior too but she was far too out of it to pay any attention to it back then, the smoothness of where knotty, irregular tissue used to be almost startling under her fingers hours after she was done muttering how she’d _made it_.)

Magnus gives her pointers from time to time but otherwise they sit in companionable silence under the canopy. After almost a century spent together there isn’t much left to say, or any need to.

“I wish I could make it a little bit fancier,” Lucretia says after what feels like ages, time altered by the forest sounds and the bright green light scattered at their feet. The staff feels polished in her hands but it’s still nothing more than a chunk of wood without her magic and the Light itself coursing through it like sap. Well, that’s what prototypes are for, she guesses. That and slowly easing her into the idea that she’s creating something that shouldn’t even be _thought_ of, unless she can find a way to avoid collateral damage, to make something with the capacity to protect and love as terribly and fiercely as she does.

“You could paint it? Or, uh, do some transmutation shit on it to change its colour.” Magnus sounds almost sheepish, and Lucretia has to wonder if he’s asking himself whether she can do any transmutation magic at all. Being around Taako and his bragging can do that to people.

She stands a little straighter, dusts some dirt off her robes. “I could most certainly do both, yes.” Then, just because she can’t have any cool moment without ruining it for herself, “aw, I’ve got my hands full of splinters now.”

This time when Magnus bursts out laughing she lets herself follow.


End file.
